Fall of the Airborne
by CreepyReaper
Summary: The last fight of the 82nd Airborne.OC
1. The Drop

**The Drop**

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><p>Fort Bragg, North Carolina was in the midst of another hot summer day. Anyone who could was sitting inside in front of air conditioners. Officers were catching up on paperwork that had accumulated during an exercise a week prior, and young enlisted men who had made 'errors in judgment' not serious enough to warrant an officer's attention, or strikes on their military record for that matter, were being run to exhaustion by annoyed NCO's.<p>

In one of the many recreational areas on base, the Michael Fremont Recreational Hall, named in honor of an 82nd Airborne soldier killed in Vietnam, soldiers of 2nd platoon, Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment of the 82nd Airborne Division were relishing the cool air and skipping through channels on the large wall mounted television.

The channel flipping stopped on a local new channel with a rather attractive news anchor, one who had become quite a favorite on base. As soon as her ample image appeared on screen a round of whistles blasted the room, practically drowning the young woman's shaky voice.

"In other news, reports of riots have just arrived from Atlanta, Georgia. This is the latest in a string of ongoing riots that have begun springing up in the last six hours. Information is still scarce but-" The newscaster was interrupted when a well-built soldier walked into the room and shut off the television.

Immediately the dozens of soldiers scattered about on the various couches and reclining chairs groaned in protest.

"Oh, come on Sergeant. We weren't watching Skinemax, what the hell?" Asked one of the men who was sprawled as far back as his recliner would allow.

"Shut up, Miller. Everybody on your feet. Armory. Now." Slowly everyone rose and followed Sergeant Willis out of the room and to the Armory where they found the rest of their battalion already standing in formation.

Inside the air conditioned building their Battalion Commander, Lieutenant Colonel Brian McKnight, stood in full combat gear, rifle and all. He was also wearing a MOPP suit with his hood in his free hand. A soldier strode up the Lieutenant Colonel and handed him a microphone which was connected to the building's PA system.

"By now I'm sure you've all heard about the riots currently taking place across the county. Local resources are being exhausted everywhere and the National Guard isn't quick enough on the draw so, at 1530 Zulu, the President has ordered troops into all major American cities." The men looked at each other in surprise.

"Our Battalion has been ordered to secure the Washington Monument and set up defensive positions around the White House as well as the Capitol Building. Alpha company will be securing the White House grounds, Bravo is charged with securing the Capitol, and Charlie will prepare defensive positions around the Washington Memorial."

More murmuring which was silenced when the Lieutenant Colonel raised his hand to signal for silence.

"I know this is strange. However, we have our orders and we will carry them out to the letter. We will be air dropped in the National Mall where we will rally and proceed on foot and appropriated civilian vehicles to our objectives. We will hold for 48 hours until elements of the Virginia National Guard roll in to relieve us."

The previous nervousness in the crowd was replaced by excitement. They were being air-dropped! Every paratrooper's dream, almost extinct in modern war, was being handed to them on a silver platter. It was a drop that ended in riot duty, but it was a drop. One to tell the grand kids about.

"C-130's from Pope Air Force Base are being prepped right now and will be ready in just under two hours. That is how long we have to prepare for the jump and load onto helicopters for ride to Pope. We don't have time to prepare our heavy equipment so we're only traveling with what we can carry and whatever is already packed for combat drops at Pope. Full combat loads, live ammunition, and MOPP gear are required. When we land we will immediately go to MOPP 4 until ordered otherwise. Any questions?"

Dead silence was the only reply. Even the loud overhead air conditioners had shut off. Lieutenant Colonel McKnight nodded. "Dismissed."

Immediately Platoon and Company commanders began issuing orders. Clerks began handing out parachute harnesses, ammunition, weapons, MOPP suits, body armor, and everything else the soldiers would need. Organized chaos described the situation well.

Normally units had up to a full day or more before a drop to prepare, check, recheck, and recheck again all their equipment, not to mention load supplies and vehicles on air-dropped pallets, but doing so in under two hours increased pressure by orders of magnitude.

2nd Lieutenant Hank Jacobs, 2nd Platoon's commanding officer, walked through the area his men had taken as theirs and assisted, as well as inspected, their equipment. A single missed clamp or loose string would mean death for any man unfortunate enough to wear it. The long tables that were normally used for overflow from the Mess Hall were covered in digital camouflaged equipment and black weapons.

"Hey Sergeant, why are we wearing MOPP gear if we're doing riot duty?" Asked Specialist Jamie Kenworth to Sergeant Willis as he donned the heavy, hot over garment. The Sergeant just shook his head and continued loading magazines in his harness.

Eventually, two and a half hours later, the paratroopers stepped off large Chinook helicopters and walked into the hulking cargo aircraft. Wind from the immense propellers threw loose debris dirt everywhere. Among them, was Corporal Danny Blaylock. He filed on board the plane and crammed himself onto a bench to wait for the hour long flight to DC.

Everyone around him was silent. Tension was thick in the air as everyone contemplated what was waiting for them on the ground. Outside the windows of the planes they could see some of the other planes in the massive formation of Super Hercules cargo planes.

Below them the scenic Virginia countryside was juxtaposed against the massive cargo planes filled with heavily armed paratroopers.

Finally the Jump Master gave the signal for everyone to stand and attach their harnesses to the static line, the line that would deploy their parachutes for them after they jumped.

All the paratroopers did one final check on the equipment of the man in front of them. This was it. Game time. Any mistakes made up to this point were about to come up and bite someone in the ass. Years of training for this on moment.

The red jump light came on and the ramp was lowered. The roar of the wind deafened everyone inside as they moved closer to the ramp. The Jump Master moved to stand right beside the still-red light.

Outside through their limited view they could see Washington, D.C. below. Thick columns of smoke were rising into the sky. The signal for one minute was given and everyone moved to their final jump positions.

Finally the light turned green. Instead of a stampede like most people expect, its a very orderly, precise, rhythm made necessary by the fact that almost a hundred men are jumping out of a plane as close together as they can. Danny slowly advanced towards the empty air as the paratroopers in front of him jumped. He was fifth in line and it was quickly his turn to jump. His training took over and he hurled himself out of the plane without hesitation.

The city was burning. The few smoke columns he had seen earlier now composed almost the entire sky. Fires raged uncontrolled all over the city. Even from almost a thousand feet in the air he could already hear gunfire from all across the city.

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><p><em>Okay guys tell me what you think. This is my latest attempt at a military-oriented zombie story. Regardless of whether or not I am able to complete this story I hope it inspires someone else to continue to try to bridge this massive gap in Zombie fiction. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think.<em>


	2. Boots on the Ground

**Boots on the Ground**

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><p>Corporal Blaylock's sightseeing was cut short when his chute was yanked open and his harness snapped tight. Above him the nylon canopy flew open and yanked him almost to a stop.<p>

He looked around and saw hundreds of other parachutes descending towards an open field around the Washington Monument; the National Mall itself. Others were floating towards the President's Park slightly to the North. So far this area seemed untouched by the hell erupting elsewhere in the city.

Slowly his parachute drifted to the ground. When he looked down again the ground was coming up quickly. He braced himself and waited.

The landing was hard. As soon as his feet touched dirt he rolled and came to a stop on his back. After shaking off the shock of the initial landing, he untangled and disconnected himself from his parachute and readied his weapon.

Raising himself to a crouch, he scanned the area around him. Paratroopers who had landed before him were already being directed to set up initial defensive positions around the Drop Zone.

After ensuring the area was safe, his next priority was his MOPP suit. He pulled the additional equipment for the protective outfit from his web gear. He donned the gloves, hood, and gas mask. They had been ordered to don the over garment, the jumpsuit-like piece that covered most of his body, as well as their over boots before they had even boarded the helicopters.

As soon as he was sure his suit was on properly, Danny grabbed his rucksack, stood, and began heading to the base of the Washington Monument, Charlie Company's rally point.

Captain Moresby, Charlie Company's CO, was already directing the soldiers who had arrived which so far seemed to be roughly half the company.

"Charlie Company gather right here!" he shouted and motioned towards himself. Slowly the company assembled around him. Finally Specialist Kenworth arrived and the huge former college football star of a Captain nodded.

He gave a signal for everyone to temporarily remove their hoods to hear him speak. Everyone did so immediately and happily. A Washington summer is not the time to be wearing hot MOPP gear if it can be avoided.

"Alright finally. I have just been given a new copy of our Rules of Engagement from Northern Command." The Captain pulled out a single sheet of paper. He cleared his throat and began to read.

"Everyone passing through roadblocks or into secure areas are to be searched for bite/scratch marks. Anyone presenting bites or scratches are to be detained and restrained immediately. Two detainees are not to be kept withing biting distance of each other under any circumstances. Detainees are not to be released until a thorough examination by medical personnel can be performed." Immediately soldiers in the crowd began muttering their confusion.

Corporal Blaylock's thoughts reflected the entire company's. '_Biting distance? What the hell does that mean?_'

Regardless the Captain continued. "Bodily fluids of anyone acting strangely are to be avoided at all costs. Any person; regardless of race, rank, gender, or status, who has come into direct contact with contaminated blood/saliva/etc are to be restrained and kept away from others."

_'This has to be a joke. We're here on riot duty for Christ's sake!' _thought Corporal Blaylock.

"Biological Warfare equipment is to be worn at all times when not in secure areas." _'What the _fuck _is the deal with the Bio-War stuff?'_

"Lastly," the Captain finished, "Any person displaying unnatural aggression to others(such as attempting to bite/scratch) are to be dispatched immediately with gunshots to the head."

The last Rule had everyone in the company dead silent. Captain Moresby himself took a moment to reread the orders before putting them back in his suit pocket. "These orders come straight from the desk of the Commander of Northern Command on the advice of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. They are to be followed under all circumstances. Is that clear?."

Two soldiers in MOPP suits walked up behind Captain Moresby and placed two large cardboard boxes on the ground. The Captain pulled out his knife, slit one of the boxes open, and pulled out a handful of plastic handcuffs.

"These are to be used to restrain anyone acting strangely. You cuff them and bring them back here. Understood?" The soldiers nodded and began taking hand-fulls of the cuffs and stuffing them wherever they could. Corporal Blaylock stuffed them in one of his NBC suit's leg pockets.

"I want a 360 degree perimeter with a 50 yard radius from the base of the Monument. Lieutenant Edwards take your platoon and retrieve the sand bags. I want the mortar section set up right where I'm standing. Everyone else start digging!" Shouted the Captain. The paratroopers grumbled, re-donned their hoods and masks, and pulled out their entrenching tools.

The young commander of Third Platoon, Lieutenant Vince Edwards, led his soldiers across the large field to the only air dropped pallets in sight. The rest, containing extra supplies, had been dropped in the trees near the Constitutional Garden Pond.

Corporal Blaylock was directed to begin digging on the eastern edge of the perimeter, facing the Treasury Complex. Beside him, Specialist Kenworth dug in silence. As their shovels broke the carefully sculpted grass they sweltered under the hot summer sun.

_'Hell of a sight we must be,'_ thought Corporal Blaylock. '_Ripping up the National Mall of all places.' _This wasn't the first time the experienced paratrooper had been here, however. He had visited it often, usually whenever his father wanted to deliver a particularly pointed scolding.

Corporal Danny Blaylock had been bored twenty one years earlier in Virginia. The son of a Naval Intelligence Officer, his mother popped him out in the Norfolk Naval Hospital. After that he had spent most of his youth moving from Norfolk to Japan, Korea, San Diego, Hawaii, and back to Norfolk. Deciding he wanted to serve his country, and make a little money for college, he decided to enlist after High School.

However, not wanting to live in his father's shadow, he had picked the Army. The tall, well muscled navy brat had meshed well with the familiar military lifestyle. After basic training he applied to, and was accepted to, Jump school. Three terrifying weeks later he was given his wings.

Before he could take a moment and appreciate it, however, the 504th was deployed to Iraq. A bloody tour around Basra followed, filled with all the ambushes and IED's he expected and more. 14 months and a few lost friends later, he returned to the states.

Specialist Kenworth had been with him the entire time, even if the scrawny, freckled Kansas native was annoying sometimes he was a good friend and a great guy to have when shit hit the fan. In fact, despite his barely 140 pound frame, he had managed to pull Danny, almost 200 pounds with another 50 pounds of armor and gear, behind the cover of a burned out Humvee.

Sergeant Willis, full name Staff Sergeant Dave Willis, walked up behind them and handed them each a pair of large water bottles. The two veteran paratroopers could easily tell it was the Sergeant because of his peculiar stride, a mix of confidence and easy-going.

"I want you two hydrating constantly. The temp just topped out at 99 degrees and these hoods are like furnaces." The two soldiers took the bottles without argument.

"Roger that Sergeant. Still better than the desert, though," quipped Specialist Kenworth.

"Just keep digging." Before Danny could pick his E-tool back up muffled gunfire erupted from behind them.

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><p><em>Chapter 2. Please Review and tell me how it is.<em>


	3. Contact

**Contact**

The gunfire caused the entirety of Charlie company to throw themselves in the grass. Even through their hoods they had heard the gunfire coming from inside the Monument. The mortar crews, closest to the base of the Monument, were the first to begin heading towards the entrance.

Lieutenant Jacobs waved them off and motioned for them to return to their positions. "Sergeant Willis! Get your squad in there now!" he shouted. The Lieutenant also began issuing orders for the rest of the Company to return to digging, made possible by the fact he was the next highest ranking officer after Captain Moresby who had led his Headquarters section inside. Presumably it was their guns the Company was hearing.

"First Squad move up!" Shouted the Sergeant. Corporal Blaylock and Specialist Kenworth were the first grab their rifles and stack up on the open door. Sergeant Willis took position behind Jamie. In seconds the rest of the squad was in place.

Behind them they could hear Lieutenant Jacobs trying to contact Captain Moresby. "Anvil 5-1 do you copy over? Anvil 5-3 this is Heartbreak 3-1 please respond." Silence. "Sergeant get your ass up there now!"

The Sergeant nodded but didn't look away from the door. "Blaylock, take your fire team and clear the stairs. I'm going to take the rest of the squad up the elevator and clear the Observation Deck. Try not to shoot us when you reach the top."

Silently, Danny flicked off the safety of his weapon and entered with his M4 at the ready. The rest of the squad did likewise and followed him inside. The stairs were on the immediate left and formed a spiral towards the top. A brass handrail followed the wall on both sides, throwing light from Danny's rifle mounted flashlight. Otherwise the stairway was dim, lit only by orange emergency lights.

Danny heard the already distant sound of the elevator door opening behind him. In his earpiece he heard Sergeant Willis' voice. It was now tense, nowhere near the calm one he'd had moments earlier.

"Be advised, we've found Staff Sergeant Hartman. KIA in elevator." The soldiers behind him paused in their ascent. Most of them were new to the unit and had never been in a situation where someone had actually died.

Without taking his eyes off the space in front of him, Danny chastised them. "He's dead. Nothing you can do about it. Keep your head in the game." Without another word he resumed his ascent, Specialist Kenworth right behind him.

The marble steps continued, rising and rising. The paratroopers began panting from the heat and exertion. MOPP gear makes everything about three times more difficult due to impaired visibility, bulky gloves, and difficult breathing.

Roughly halfway to the top, a thin trail of blood appeared out of the darkness. It looked fresh. Extremely fresh. Raising his rifle, and the flashlight attached to it, higher Danny saw it was a stream that climbed the stairs.

Cautiously, he advanced. Half a rotation later the blood formed a large still pool. Danny took care to step around the pool to avoid slipping. He proceeded even slower.

Loud rustling caused him to raise his fist to signal the soldiers to stop. The rustling continued undisturbed and he lowered his fist and flicked off the light on his rifle.

When he continued ascending the rustling got much louder. Danny flipped off his radio, the only other sound in the tight stairway.

Finally, another rotation around, Danny saw a dark shape moving. It looked like a hand. After motioning a warning to the others, he tensed his body. In one fluid motion he jumped up to a firing position and clicked his flashlight back on.

The scene was gruesome. A woman was crouched over a soldier who lay unmoving with his head lying limp. His mask and hood had been ripped off and his NBC suit was torn open. The woman was greedily feeding on the man's intestines. Blood and gore covered on all the walls.

The woman jerked her head up. Her face was missing the skin on the right side of her face as well as a large portion of her neck. Blood and chunks of meat covered her mouth and chin. Hair was matted against her forehead. Blood, both dried and fresh, covered her shredded clothes.

She bared her teeth and hissed at Danny. When she tried to leap down the stairs at him, his rifle barked once. The bullet shredded its way through her forehead and lodged itself in the marble wall behind her. In an instant her body went completely limp and slid down the stairs. Danny planted his foot on her head to stop her descent and kicked her body to the side.

Raising his rifle once again he approached the solder's body and felt for a pulse. Feeling none he clicked his radio back on.

"Stairway Team, one KIA located, identity unknown. One hostile eliminated. Proceeding." Danny ripped off one of the man's dog tags and gently pushed the dead soldier to the side to allow the rest of the team to follow him and continued climbing. Without looking at them he pocketed the thin metal ID tags.

Behind him he heard another gunshot. Quickly turning he saw Specialist Kenworth's smoking rifle barrel over the woman's head. "Just making sure," was Jamie's only reply. Danny nodded and returned his view to the front.

The light from his rifle now showed the true extent of the carnage. Apparently there had been quite a struggle leading to the scene down the stairs. Danny found the soldier's bloody hood. Further up he found a jammed carbine. Danny picked it up, cleared the jam, hung the extra gun at his side.

At last, panting and filling their suits with sweat, the soldiers arrived on the cramped Observation Deck. Sergeant Willis' half of the squad was already there. Two soldiers were lying with their hoods off while medics looked over wounds on their faces and arms. Another four soldiers were lying in a corner with ponchos covering most of their bodies. Blood covered the floor everywhere and made walking difficult.

Corporal Blaylock walked up to Sergeant Willis who was standing behind the medics. "What the hell happened?" He asked.

Sergeant Willis just shook his head. "The room wasn't empty. Captain Moresby is dead, along with most of the HQ guys. Corporals Trevor and Donaldson are still alive but they have severe wounds. Six dead...I don't know what the fuck to call the monsters." He pointed to a pile of dead bodies in the corner. Private First Class Miller and Specialist Jackson were watching them closely with their Squad Automatic Weapons shouldered.

"There was one in the hall eating Sergeant Perez." Danny said after pulling out and reading the late Sergeant's tags. Sergeant Willis nodded.

"The Lieutenant is sending up another squad to retrieve the bodies. I'll let them know. Take the rest of the squad back to their positions. They need to get their holes dug and sandbagged before nightfall. Make sure Miller and Jackson are in good positions with their SAWs."

"I'll get it done." Corporal Blaylock insisted. When the relief squad arrived in the elevator Danny held the door until the last of the squad was in and pushed the down button.

When they exited the building they gave a collective sigh. It wasn't much but it was a little cooler outside. At least it was better than a stone building baking in the sun without AC. When the squad reached their positions they found they had already been completed.

They looked around in confusion but only saw the two squads on either side of their positions just finishing their own holes. They also noticed razor wire had been strung up around most of the Company's perimeter.

The squad dispersed as they each went to their two-person foxholes. Corporal Blaylock sat in his and put down the extra rifle he picked up earlier. Jamie collapsed with a huff beside him. In silence they looked over the city.

Gunfire was still echoing in the distance, though noticeably less than earlier. Many of the fires seemed to have burned themselves out or spread to other areas. Everyone was silent with their thoughts or talking quietly to their buddies.

The only sound left was Lieutenant Jacobs giving a Situation Report over the radio. "Roger. Anvil 5-3 confirmed KIA, Heartbreak 3-1 assuming command. Total casualties; six friendly KIA, two friendly WIA, nine infected put down. All bodies secured, over."

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><p><em>There is Chapter 3. Hope you enjoy and review<em>


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